


Gym Bunny

by orphan_account



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Praise Kink, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7774423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q notices that Murr's been working out. Murr rewards him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gym Bunny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [totalbullshark](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=totalbullshark).



> Prompt: https://66.media.tumblr.com/cd02e79a7ab1fcab9c8dde42bff3a3dc/tumblr_messaging_obq9tehaPN1rkvu4c_250.jpg

Murr tosses his empty smoothie cup into the trash on their way out of the cafe. Q licks caramel off his straw, as though flaunting the fact that he had no dietary restrictions to concern himself with. Murr licks his lips and tries not to let his jealousy and disappointment show on his face.

“Dude, if you want a taste, just ask,” Q says before taking another sip.

The caramel mocha colors swirl up his straw, mocking him.

“Thanks, but I can’t.”

“What? Why?” Q asks, shooting him a weird look.

“I’ve been working out more,” Murr says.

Q gives him a quick once over. His clothes were definitely fitting him more loosely, and his chubby ferret cheeks had been looking leaner lately.

“Yeah, I can tell. You look good.”

“Now you’re just teasing me. You’re-you’re going to say something about being a ferret or vain or-or-or obnoxious, right? This is a joke.”

Q laughs and finishes off his drink, and Murr’s cheeks turn red in anticipation of the dig he was sure was coming. Q puts out a hand to stop him from walking further. They were almost to set, but Q wants to resolve this thing before they get in front of the cameras, leaving Murr to stew for the next eight hours.

“Look, there’s a ton of shit I can tease you about. Like, a _ton_ of shit. But you’re also my friend, and I’m happy that you’re happy. And you really do look good, but I swear to god if you make a big deal about this and make it into a whole thing, I’ll punch you right in your ferret face.”

Murr blinks a few times as he tries to process Q’s compliment/threat.

“Th-thanks, pal. That was nice—I think?—of you to say.”

Q smiles and claps him on the shoulder.

“Good. Now let’s go make Joe and Sal say some dumb shit to strangers.”

The rest of the day goes pretty smoothly. They only get recognized once, but the lady is cool about it, and she doesn’t disrupt the prank in the park. The boys drive to the mall to repeat their fishhook challenge, and that’s when Murr sees the shirt.

“Wait, one second, guys. I just wanna go in here for a…”

He lets his sentence trail off as he wanders into the Gap they were shooting in front of.

“Did he seriously just fucking go into the store in the middle of a fucking prank? Did he really just fucking do that!?” Joe shouts.

Sal looks like he’s about to start screaming or combusting. His cheeks go tomato red, and all Q can do is laugh and look on in amazement.

“I wish I could fuckin’ say this was the first time he’s done this, but that’d be a fuckin’ lie,” Sal says, voice an angry rumble. “I can’t believe this guy. Why are we still friends with him?”

“Ear piece is back in, guys. I’m ready now,” Murr says, fiddling with his ear as though what he did was perfectly acceptable.

Q lets Joe and Sal explode some more while watching Murray’s face on the monitor. Murr looked like a child being scolded by his parents for wandering off. He looks indignant, but the more they lay into him, the less sure of himself he looks. The two hot heads finally calm down.

“It’s a nice shirt,” Q says into the microphone. 

And some of the redness on Murr’s cheeks recedes. 

“ _Thank you!_ Thank you, Q. See, I didn’t think it was gonna be that big of a deal.”

Joe and Sal huff and roll their eyes.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Sal murmurs under his breath.

“It’s a little small though.”

“Is it?” Murr asks.

He holds his arms out in front of himself and twists his body to check.

“It looks good on you.”

Murr smiles, and it makes his eyes crinkle.

“Th-thanks, Q.”

“Well, if you two weirdos are done flirting, we have a challenge to shoot here. Pretty sure one of these shoppers has reported a lunatic talking to himself in front of Gap, and we’re gonna get kicked out of here any minute.”

“Right, right,” Murr says, seamlessly slipping back into work mode.

It’s not until two weeks later that Murr invites Q to join him at the gym under his special guest privileges he has with his premium membership.

“You don’t even have to work out,” Murr explains. “You can do the sauna or the pool. There’s tanning, waxing, threading. You could get a massage!”

Gyms are lame, but saunas and massages where pretty nice, so Q takes him up on the offer. It seemed like a pretty good way to spend a day off. What else was he going to do with Joe was with his family, and Sal was too sick to come over to play video games. 

The idea of sharing a sauna with a bunch of sweaty strangers almost made him back out anyway, but when Q pulls up in his Jeep, it’s not nearly as packed as he thought it would be. Q breathes a sigh of relief. He loved his fans and his job, but today, he wants to put that all aside, and the mostly quiet facilities was reassuring. The uniformed staff behind the counter checks him in and brings him to his own locker with instructions on where everything was. Q thanks the guy and shoots off a quick text to Murr to let him know he was there.

Q hears a soft _ping!_ echo from the other side of the locker bank. It’s not long before Murr peaks around the corner, wearing only a towel.

“Oh, hey! You’re here! Isn’t this place nice? It’s really classy and totally low-key.”

“Hey, man. Thanks for the invite. Where’s this sauna I keep hearing about?”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s this way. Through that door.”

The door opens up to a cluster of other doors. Each door had a letter over it from A to F. Most of the saunas only had a few people in it, but Murr opts for room D, which was completely empty. The door shuts with a soft click, and the steam starts up when Murr pushes a button on the wall.

Q sighs with relief and sits down on the warm stone bench. Already the stress of the week was disappearing into the fog. Once he has the temperature and steam properly configured, Murr sits down next to Q at a comfortable distance. Murr smiles.

“This is nice, right?”

Q smirks and points at Murr’s chest.

“Nice tits.”

“Come on, dude, really?” Murr huffs. “You-you keep saying things like that lately. And I was flattered at first, but now it’s getting weird.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the first one that noticed you’d been working out. You and your ego were both sufficiently flattered.”

“Flattery is one thing, Brian. But you went from flattery to telling me to keep a too-tight shirt and you’ve called my pecs ‘tits’ about a million times this week!”

Q shrugs.

“Maybe I just like ‘em.”

Murr slides the rest of the way over, incredulous.

“You like them. You like my chest. Am I understanding this correctly? What is going on here?”

Q figures it would be easier just to show the guy what he meant rather than trying to explain himself. Q wasn’t known for being a talkative guy anyway. He reaches out his left hand to cup Murr’s right pec, and before Murr can say think of anything to say or even run away, Q grips the back of his head in his free hand and pulls him in for a kiss. Q pulls away first.

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck was that?” Murr asks.

Q shrugs and chuckles.

“I don’t know. Lately I’ve kinda been getting’ off to the idea of you as my little gym bunny.”

“So you’ve been jerking off while thinking about me,” Murr accuses.

“Tell me that’s not making you a little hard right now. Tell me that your little general isn’t getting a little chubby at the idea of me getting into the shower and jerking off to the idea of you shirtless at the gym getting fit just for me. Tell me that’s not the case, and I’ll apologize and never bring it up ever again.”

Q stares at him so intently that it would be incredibly foolish to lie. And Murr knows the heat from the vents will only camouflage his blush for so long.

“It-it does. It is, okay? But—”

“So what’s the harm in just letting it play out? Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Like a blowjob?”

Q laughs.

“You’re the only guy I know who can go from completely being against a kiss and a grope to literally asking permission to suck me off in a public steam room.”

“Well, flattery can get you anywhere. I’ll-I’ll just…”

It’s fascinating to Q to watch Murr retreat into his own head in order to psych himself up to do this. It wasn’t like Q was going to make him do anything. Whatever Murr did was his own choice. Q slowly begins palming his dick, waiting to see where this crazy day off was going to take him next. “Next” was watching him drop to his knees, lick his lips, and look up at him with eyes that seemed a million miles away something else. Murr puts his hands on Q’s knees, and Q lets his cock go. He sucks in a breath when Murr grips it with only a little hesitation.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Q says because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. 

“You’re not making me do anything. Consider it my way of saying thank you. You’re the one who noticed I’d been working out in the first place.”

Murr absently licks his palm and slowly starts stroking Q off.

“You don’t have to actually be my little gym bunny.”

“I’m not going to be your ‘little’ anything. I’m almost as big as you now.”

Q gives a low moan when Murr swipes his thumb over the tip of his cock.

“Almost,” Q says, with a quick glance to Murr’s towel clad lap.

Q sees the twinkle in Murray’s eyes that tells him Murr has picked up the gauntlet that Q had laid down. Murr’s tongue takes its first experimental licks.

“Oh, fuck, dude.”

Murr opens his mouth a little wider to start taking him in, and Q lets out a stream of profanity that sends shock waves through Murr’s cock. Q runs his nails through the short hair over Murr’s ears, and Murr groans around the length in his mouth, drool gently trickling out.

“I wanna come on your tits,” Q says, forcing himself to keep eye contact with Murr despite his hands and mouth doing everything they could to keep them shut. “I just—I _want_ it—”

Murr pulls off with a gasp.

“Okay, okay, okay and then me, Bri. Please. God please, me next?”

The vision of Murr on his knees, begging, _pleading_ with him to come, is enough to set him off, leaving him with the fucking gorgeous picture off Murr as a complete and utter mess. He reaches out towards Murr, who awkwardly stands and sits down next to Q once more.

“Holy fucking shit, dude. Come here, and let me…”

“You don’t have to do that actually.”

“What? Sure I do. After _that_ I—”

“I mean I already finished. When you were, so was I.”

Q stares, licks his lips as he mulled that over.

“Shit.”

“That-that was…,” Murr trails off eyes wide, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Q agrees.

Silently, Murr wipes himself off with a corner of his towel. Neither man could think of what to say. The door swings open.

“The other rooms were pretty full. Mind if I sit in here?” a gentleman asks.

The two quickly share horrified looks.

“You didn’t lock the goddamn door?” Murr whispers.

The fear is clear in his wide eyes and tense shoulders. Q throws his hands up in the air.

“You said something about a massage?” Q asks.


End file.
